


The Meet Cutes

by TheBlackLagoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ALL OF IT, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brush your teeth well because it's all tooth rotting fluff., F/F, F/M, It's all fluff, M/M, Meet the Family, Plot? What Plot?, There is nothing else here but fluff, just meet cutes, meet cutes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-03-23 12:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13787763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackLagoon/pseuds/TheBlackLagoon
Summary: Different worlds, different stories, but they keep meeting. It begins on a Ferris Wheel, and ends in a coffee shop, but it seems Lance and Keith are destined to find each other no matter the distance, and always in new and exciting ways. (Indefinitely Abandoned, sorry guys, I just kind of lost the spark after season 8)





	1. Round and Round We Go

**Author's Note:**

> Lance got dumped, Keith’s third wheeling, and somehow they end up stuck at the top of a Ferris wheel together.

  
In all honesty, Lance was pretty sure he’d found the worst possible place to be dumped, ever. He was actually pretty proud of himself, because who knew you could beat the over text breakup? Lance didn’t. At least not until Nyma dragged him to the county fair on their one month anniversary.  
  
The night of course had started off wonderfully in Lance’s opinion. They’d played a few rigged carnival games, gotten their fortunes told by a smiley old lady, and then pigged out on fair food. Nyma had been quiet, but she wasn’t a chatty person to begin with, so Lance hadn’t assumed a thing. They’d walked together hand in hand, and Lance was pretty sure he was in love- or he felt he had the ability to be in love. It didn’t really matter at that point, because it had been a perfect date, a perfect night. Until of course Lance had pointed out the Tiltawhirl.  
  
To be fair, Lance usually had a strong stomach, with friends like Hunk you just learned to handle yourself. But he misjudged, with the two chili dogs, elephant ear and eight fried Oreos sloshing around inside him, before he decided to be spun at increased speeds.  
  
On the upside, he kept in until he stepped off the ride. The downside, it happened to be right onto Nyma’s shoes.  
  
She’d stared at him forlornly for a moment, her bleach blonde hair, frizzy with the summer heat, then she’d pursed her lips and told him things weren't working out. She’d promised him it hadn’t been the puking that had done it- but for some reason, that hadn’t make him feel any better.  
  
That- had been an hour ago, an hour in which Lance had taken the time to clean himself up, and then have a complete breakdown while in line for a corn dog. The other fair goers in line had not been too pleased by his outburst of tears, and grabbing his corn dog of shame, he’d scuttled off to sulk in a secluded section of splintery picnic tables.  
  
He took a large bite of his food before he slid his phone from the left pocket of his jeans. He scrolled through his contacts blindly, before tapping a name.  
  
The phone only rang for a moment before Lance heard a click.  
  
“She broke up with you?” Pidge’s voice asked distractedly, and Lance nearly started sobbing again.  
  
“How the fuck did you find out so quickly?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose tight. On the other end of the line Lance could hear rapid typing, and he sighed.  
  
“Please tell me she didn’t post anything about it online,” there was silence, and Lance let his head drop onto the wooden surface of the table. Great, he couldn’t wait for the rest of the high school to know he’d puked on his girlfriend- ex-girlfriend. Pidge gave a small cough that roused him from his apocalyptic nightmares.  
  
“It’s not- as bad as you think. She just changed her Facebook status- and no one uses Facebook but middle aged soccer moms, so- I think you dodged a bullet,” she stated blithely, and Lance just groaned from his position on the table top.  
  
“Maybe a wanted to date a middle aged soccer mom type girl Pidge- did you ever think of that?” He mumbled into the phone, and Lance could just hear Pidge rolling her eyes.  
  
“Okay- now your just being ridiculous. You didn’t even like her that much! I know because you never talked about her,” Pidge said, and all Lance could do was scoff.  
  
“What do you mean? I talked about her all the time to you and Hunk!” He exclaimed, forgetting momentarily to be wallowing in despair.  
  
“Okay, sure, you talked about her, but not about her. You could go days talking about the way her hair looked a certain day, but you couldn’t tell me if she liked chocolate or vanilla- or if she was interested in the same music you were into. Just simple things like that. It wasn’t even your fault- she just wasn’t forthcoming, and I know you don’t like that it a person,” Pidge responded, and Lance had to take a moment to think.  
  
“But- I just- I felt like we had a connection- a real one-“  
  
“Lance, the only time you’ve had a real connection was with that girl back on Varadero beach- ya know, Penny? You likened her to a mermaid, and she was interested in studying marine biology just like you. That was a real connection- Nyma was pretty, and nice, but nothing real,” Pidge finished, and Lance was finding it harder to feel sad.  
  
“Ugh- this is the last time I come to you for emotional support first- Hunk would have let me cry,” Lance grumbled, but Pidge just laughed in response.  
  
“If you had really wanted to cry more you would have called Hunk, but you wanted the truth so you came to me- the master of the truth!” Pidge lowered her voice comically, and Lance chuckled softly.  
  
“Yeah, yeah- master of the truth- you might be right, but I’m still- I’m still upset, and I think I’ll be for a little while. But you helped, so thank you,” Lance said softly, and Pidge sighed affectionately.  
  
“No problem Lance, have fun at the rest of the fair, ride the Ferris Wheel- that always cheered me up as a little kid.”  
  
“Aren’t you still a little kid?” Lance asked, and then laughed when he heard the line suddenly go dead. He sighed, and placed his phone down on the table twirling his forgotten corn dog like a wand. He glanced up and to his left, squinting his eyes into the bright lights of the fair. The Ferris Wheel spun slowly through the night sky, the lights circling on it, glowing like stars.  
  
He’d planned on riding it later with Nyma, a romantic end to their romantic date, all cuddled up together in one of its swing seats. But, he had to concede, Ferris Wheels were fun no matter what, alone or with a special someone, and he stood brushing corn dog crumbs from his jeans. He grabbed his phone quickly, and shoved it back into his pocket, before making his way to the spinning attraction.

 

* * *

  
  
Keith fucking hated carnivals- or fairs- whatever the hell his brother had dragged him to. They were noisy, smelly and there was always way too many people. No one could enjoy being touched accidentally by that many strangers. Keith sure didn’t- but Takashi and his boyfriend seemed chipper enough by hour two of shitty amusement park games.  
  
“Damn it, I really thought I had it there,” Adam sighed as he failed his third and final try at knocking the pins in the middle over. Keith just glared at his brother, who was ignoring him in favor of reminding his boyfriend that fair games were rigged, and under normal circumstance he would have decimated those pins.  
  
“Whatever, I think I’m done with these games anyway- How about some good old American fried everything?” Adam asked, a mixture of excitement and disgust plastered on her face. Takashi, the total utter sap that he was, just nodded vigorously while babbling about what they could buy first, before taking Adam’s arm in his and leaving Keith in the dust. Not that Keith cared- not that he minded being made the third wheel on his brothers impromptu date with the cute guy from physics class he’d been flirting with for the past three weeks. Yeah- Keith didn’t mind. At all.  
  
He followed them with only mild internal cursing.

He caught up with them just as they got in line for a jumbo sized elephant ear. Keith tried to keep the look of horror off his face as he saw a little girl of maybe two, waddling past him with a piece of fried bread the size of her torso.

Fairs were where people came to die. If the faulty rides didn’t do it to them, it was the sugar induced cardiac arrest. Keith was so wrapped up in his morbid fair hypothesis, that he nearly missed his brother and Adam leaving the line. Neither of them noticed him anyway, to preoccupied with staring soulfully into eachothers eyes. Keith felt he was going to be sick.

They chose a well lit place to sit and eat, or in Keith’s case, sit and wallow in self pity, right next to a rainbow colored slide. Children were running to and fro, screaming their heads off, and it was as if Takashi and Adam weren’t aware of it. They dug into their oversized piece of fried bread, and Keith tried his best to not start yelling along with the toddlers.

“You know, it was really cool of you Keith to let me barge in on your time with your brother. I guess Shiro just saw how excited I was when I heard we’d all be going this weekend and invited me along-,” Adam apologized, quickly wiping powdered sugar off his face. Keith stared back at him, and tried to formulate a sentence that didn’t sound like he was lying through his teeth. He hadn’t been to the county fair since he was five. He had not planned on coming this weekend. He was here so his brother could lie his way into a casual date.

“Yeah- no- it’s no problem really, I’m actually getting too old for these things anyway, but Takashi _loves_ them,” Keith drawled, smiling sweetly across the table at Adam, and he could just see his brothers face drop into a deadpan glare. Adam, unaware of the sibling battle going on in front of him, smiled back at Keith politely before taking another enormous bite of his elephant ear. Takashi’s face morphed into a look of total endearment, and Keith really wanted to punch him.

“Uh- you know what guys- I’m a total idiot, I forgot my phone in the car. I’m just gonna go run and grab it,” Keith stated bluntly, pushing himself up from the table. Takashi’s head whipped up to look at him, a look of pure panic written across his face. Keith just smiled at him, ignoring the urge to cackle maniacally.

“Oh, well we’ll wait here for you-”  
  
“No need! You guys just have fun, I’m actually meeting up with some friends of mine from school, so it’s no biggie,” Keith cut Adam off quickly, lies falling from his mouth easily. Takashi continued his wide eyed plea, but Keith merely waved goodbye to the two. He quickly melted into the crowd, looking around for any place of seclusion available. His eyes suddenly caught on to the Ferris Wheel, it’s lights burning into his retinas enough for him to blink away tears.

If there was anything more secluded at a fair then sitting at a great height away from the crowds, it would be leaving the fair. But Takashi was his ride, so that left the Ferris Wheel. With a sigh, Keith began pushing his way through the crowd and toward the spinning death trap.

 

* * *

 

Lance had just enough tickets to get him a ride on the Ferris Wheel. Which was lucky, because he’d spent the rest of his money on Nyma. Well- not exactly on her, but the rest of the night at the fair. He was just two people away from end of the line, and he was starting to wonder if standing in the end of summer heat was really worth it for a few turns around the Ferris Wheel. But in another few moments he was at the front, handing his tickets to the ticket taker and making his way to the rickety little seating car.

“Two people to a car- any single riders in line?” the ride operator paused before he shut the door to Lance’s cart, looking out among the line for the ride. A pale hand at the end of the line shot into the air first, and the ride operator called the person up. Lanes eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly turned to the guy holding open the door.

“Can’t I just- ride alone?” Lance pleaded, trying his best to give off a totally pathetic look, but the guy just shook his head.

“Sorry dude, we’re super busy tonight. We’ve got to put in the maximum number in each cart if we can,” he shrugged his shoulders in an apologetic way, but his expression seemed incredibly apathetic about the whole thing. So Lance was forced to move as far to the right side of the tiny cart as he could, so a guy with the most venomous expression he’d ever seen could get in with him. Lance kept his gaze directly in front of him, because he could literally feel anger wafting off the guy to his left. The ride operator slammed the door shut, and moved over to the control lever.

The cart shifted, swinging slightly, and then it was off and Lance was regretting his decision to stay at the fair. The two boys stayed silent, both their arms crossed, and knees together trying their best not to touch as the cart slowly made its way to the top. Lance tried to relax a bit, because the view was pretty nice, the attractions down below sparkling like earthbound stars. He looked further out, at the darkened town, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see his house from here, but childishly hoping he could. He leaned forward stupidly, and the cart rocked. The boy next to him stiffened, and Lance tried his best to rest gently back in his seat, so as not disturb their cart anymore.

They made it around twice more, the silence continuing, and Lance marveling at the height they reached each time. The brooding boy seemed to loosen up a bit as well on their third turn around, his shoulders falling as he breathed in the sweet summer air. It was nice, Lance had to concede- even the awkwardness of the stranger wasn’t so bad. At least there was someone else to share the surreal experience that a Ferris Wheel was. Their fourth turn around, Lance turned to the boy, the social being in him spurring him to do so.

“I’m- Lance by the way,” he said quietly. It felt like they had to be quiet this far up away from the rest of the fair, the rest of the world. The boy looked at him a little apprehensive at first before he turned to look out at the fair again.

“Keith,” he stated frankly, as he rested his elbows on the carts safety bar. Lance nodded slowly, and instinctively moved to rest his arms on the bar as well. They’d reached the very top for the last time, and they were both determined to enjoy the view. It was just as beautiful and ethereal as the times before, but just as their cart had reached the very top of its course a loud and horrible _clang_ was heard from down below, and the ride came to an immediate halt.

Lance and Keith’s cart shook a little as the ride jolted to a stop, and immediately voices from  the other carts carried up to them. Groans of dismay floated through the air, as the poor ride operator tried his best to call up to them all not to worry. Lance looked over at Keith, and they locked eyes for a moment before they both quickly looked away. The people down below got quiet again, and they were left alone again at the top, separated but attached to the bustling fairgrounds around them.

“I feel like this is a pretty good representation of how my nights going,” Lance muttered, as he leaned backward in his seat tilting his head to look back at the other carts behind them. Keith snorted next to him, and Lance turned to look at him startled. Keith must of realized what he’d done, because his cheeks immediately tinted red.

“I uh- I know what you mean,” he elaborated, and Lance nodded before he said-

“You also got dumped right after you puked on the Tiltawhirl?” which, TMI  right? This guy was a total stranger Lance, did your mother teach you anything? But Lance couldn’t help but notice he was a very cute stranger, so maybe oversharing wasn’t so bad. Keith’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open a little in surprise. Yeah- he was definitely cute.

“Did that really happen? God I feel bad for complaining now, I’m sorry dude,” Keith said, an apologetic grimace spread across his face. Lance just shrugged his concern off, kicking his legs out over the ledge of their cart.

“It’s not that bad, now that I've thought through it- she wasn't the right person for me,” Lance sighed, and Keith just nodded slowly at him. Silence fell between them again, and it wasn’t quite so awkward this time round. The fair was still in full swing for some, and shrieks of laughter carried up to where they both sat. Right in front of the Ferris Wheel a cotton candy booth stood, and the smell of melted sugar reached out to Lance tantalizing, and he realized he hadn’t actually eaten that corn dog he’d bought.

“How long do think we’re gonna be up here?” He asked tentatively, and Keith shrugged his shoulders absentmindedly.

“I don’t care to wait that much,  it’s- it’s nice up here,” Keith said, his eyes roaming the fairgrounds, gleaming with the reflection of the multi colored lights all around.

“Yeah- yeah it is,” Lance said quietly, turning his gaze to the soft curve of Keith’s face. And then Keith was looking at him, and then they were into another game of staring, and Keith’s eyes may have actually been violet, which _wow_. But he had to look away at some point, so he coughed self consciously and turned away, immediately changing the topic.

“So- why’s your night shitty?” he asked, and it looked like Keith was trying to deal with the whiplash of the situation, because he didn’t answer immediately.

“Well- like I said, it’s nothing compared to yours but- I’ve been third wheeling my brother and his new boyfriend for like three hours and I actually _hate_ fairs,” Keith said, an evident bitter note to his tone. Lance whistled sympathetically, and leaned back on the safety bar of their cart.

“Sounds pretty crappy to me- but like- why the hate on for fairs. Fairs are fun.

“Fairs are _not_ fun, and anyone who thinks they are is out of their mind.”

“Wow- when do you think I should institutionalize myself then?” Lance joked playfully, and Keith almost, _almost_ smiled- which made Lance feel pretty great.

“I just- I’m no good with the crowds and the heat, and the _children_ ,” Keith stated in disgust, and Lance had to stop him there.

“Okay, whoa there Keith- children are our future, thank you very much.”

“I don’t hate kids- just, Fair kids. Their all hyped up on sweets, and they scream- _a lot_ ,” Keith frowned, obviously taking offense at the implication he wasn’t a fan of all children. Lance laughed softly at his expression, and turned his gaze to look down on the crowds of people. There _were_ a lot of yelling kids down there.

“Well that's a relief- I’m usually not into people who don’t like kids,” Lance said, and it’s only until it’s out of his mouth that he realized how it sounded, which is exactly as he meant it, but Keith didn’t need to know that. Keith who is blushing so red, he’s matching his red sweatshirt. Lance made things awkward- he could honestly kick himself, but then Keith said quietly-

“Well- good thing I do like kids,” and that simple sentence from Keith had Lance blushing, and he could only hope that his was less noticeable.

 

* * *

 

A good fifteen more minutes pass, and the rest of the line for the Ferris Wheel had dwindled, the impatient people wandering off for actually functioning rides. Those trapped on the Ferris Wheel were truly getting antsy, and there complaints, sharp and consistent, were reaching the poor ride operator, who was trying his best to get the Fair’s technician on the scene. But at the top Keith was having the best time at a fair he’d ever had. Lance was genuinely nice, funny, and Keith was willing to admit, pretty attractive.

Once the conversation had started it had became easier and easier to loosen up and laugh along at the other boy’s stupid jokes. He was smiling more, and the heat and the bright lights didn’t seem as much of a problem as they had been before.

“I can’t believe we go to the same school! How come we’ve never met?” Lance laughed as he spoke, a warm comforting sound, and for no reason at all Keith found himself smiling.

“I’m a- pretty quiet kid, Freshman and Sophomore year I basically spent all my free time in the library,” Keith shrugged, and Lance squinted at him in concern.

“Do you have anyone to sit with at lunch now? Because you’re totally coming to sit with me on Monday- no argument,” Lance said, a determined look on his face.

“I uh- sit with my brother and his boyfriend usually,- but I-I’d like to sit with you,” Keith stumbled through the end of his sentence, but Lance just grinned at him.

“Then it’s a date dude. You, me and the over priced school lunches- also probably Hunk, and Pidge, also Shay, ‘Llura too honestly, and I’m sure Lucas will try to weedle himself in,” Lance rambled, his voice strong and smooth, an irresistible noise, it seemed to Keith.

“I’m- I’m kind of glad the ride stopped,” Keith stupidly blurted out the minute there was a lull in Lance’s voice. Lance paused for a moment, letting his head rest on the back of their bench seat.

“Yeah- yeah I am too,” Lance replied easily his eyes flitting over to meet with Keith's.

Keith opened his mouth to say something just as equally embarrassing when a loud _whir_ sounded, and the ride was back in motion, gently dropping Keith and Lance down to earth. Keith turned to Lance, a little shocked, but Lance was just smiling, his wide infectious smile, and Keith couldn’t help but grin back. Their cart slid down, the wind flowing through their hair, and cooling their sweaty faces, and then finally they were back on the ground. The ride operator was smiling too widely as he opened the door for them to step out, and he desperately handed them each long strips of tickets.

“ _So_ sorry for the wait folks, you each get twenty tickets for the fair tomorrow night. We’re still not sure what happened,” he shrugged nervously, then quickly waved them out of them way, as the ride moved onto the next set of carts. Lance and Keith stumbled down the makeshift metal steps, laughter bubbling up in both of them. They gripped their tickets close as the moved there way past the receding late night crowd, and finally reached a quiet spot under a tree.

“So- twenty tickets for tomorrow night- great prize for a guy who hates fairs right?” Lance giggled, waving around his bunch of tickets. Keith just shrugged smiling up at Lance.

“I don’t know- they’re not so bad. Especially with the Ferris Wheel,” Keith’s voice was way too soft for his own liking, but Lance’s smile became smaller, more personal as he leaned back against the tree. They stood that way for a moment, watching as the crowd petered off, the nights heat slowly breaking. Then, suddenly Lance was on the move, walking just a few feet away to grab a napkin from a shoddy looking picnic table.

“What are you-?” but Keith didn’t finish his question as Lance pulled a random pen from his over large jacket pockets and scribbled something down on his stolen napkin. And then he was shoving it at Keith, his dark skin tinting almost raspberry down to his neck.

“Here- it’s my number,” Lance stated quickly, and Keith grabbed onto the crumpled napkin cautiously.

“I-uh- thank you- thanks,” Keith smiled shakily at him, sure his own blush was making him look like an overripe tomato. Lance laughed a little, a nervous grin slipping onto his face, as he rubbed at his neck self consciously.

“I’ll text you tonight-or uh- right now,” Keith assured him suddenly, realizing he hadn’t actually confirmed he wanted the number in the first place. He made a show of reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone to type in the number. He shot off a quick text, and Lance’s phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced down quickly, and a small smile creeped onto his face.

(21:32)   **Hey :)**

Lance laughed, and typed something into his phone as well.

(21:32) _Hey ;)_

 

They both looked up from their phones, soft eyes, and soft smiles. Lances phone suddenly buzzed in his hand again, and this time when he looked down at it he didn’t smile.

“Uh- my Mom, she wants me back- something about my sisters babysitter canceling,” Lance looked back at Keith, a sincere and apologetic look in his eyes.

“Well- Monday, at Lunch then?” Keith questioned, stuffing his phone into his back jean pocket. Lance nodded, his smile coming back.

“We’ll meet next to the Lion statue in the courtyard.”  
  
“It’s a date then,” Keith said, repeating Lance’s description from earlier. Lance grinned at him, stepping back slowly into the crowd. He gave a little salute, before breaking eye contact and running back the way he’d come before. Keith watched him go, not wanting to move from the quiet place they’d found. But then suddenly his phone buzzed in his pocket.

(21:41) _You, Me, Ferris Wheel, 8:00, tomorrow night ;)_

 

Keith grinned down at the text, and the cheesy winky face before he quickly typed his response.

(21:42) **I’ll see you at the top**

  
Keith smiled down at his phone, and warm feeling blooming in the pit of his chest. In all honesty, Keith was pretty sure he’d found the best possible place to find a date, _ever_.


	2. HotMail.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets his neighbors weird mail on accident, and has to go return it. Fortunately for Lance though, the neighbor's pretty cute.

Lance was having a pretty shitty day so far. It had all started when he’d woken up with the super migraine from hell, one his mother would easily have blamed on dehydration. But mothers were notorious for blaming things on dehydration, so Lance was a little skeptical. After that he’d somehow misplaced his favorite jacket, and had had to head to class in his high school swim team sweatshirt, which at this point in his life was incredibly small on him. It was a hit to his ego for sure to be wearing a fashion monstrosity like that, but it was made even worse when he’d bumped into Allura Altea.

To be fair, he should have known that Allura would be showing up to his Physics class, she was after all, his T.A. But he definitely should have remembered he’d invited her to coffee before class- which he’d most definitely _missed_.

“Lance if you had other plans you could have just told me, I’m a busy person and I wasted the majority of my morning waiting on you. When you said you had questions about the class, I was glad to help, but ditching our planned meeting was unacceptable,” she’d said all this as the rest of their Physics class had pushed passed them into the room. Lance had to try and not die of embarrassment.

He also tried several times as she spoke, to interject, that, _no_ he had most definitely not had other plans, and _yes_ it had been unacceptable, and _please_ don’t hate him for this. But the minute she took a pause to breath, their professor started class, and Lance was officially late.

After an excruciating class of Allura avoiding his eye contact, she didn’t even have the decency to stay so he could beg forgiveness. She exited with the front of the throng of tired college students, and Lance was left behind trying to fight his way through. By the time he made it from the room, she’d been swept to far into the crowd.

Lance was seriously starting to think, _maybe_ , just maybe, someone had cursed him.

The real trouble though, only started later, when, on Lance’s walk back to his apartment, he got a call from his roommate. As he grabbed the phone, he lost visual contact with the ground long enough to step into a puddle of rain from the night before. He answered the phone with a grimace, and a very wet sock.

“Okay-ha, quick question, when did you order twenty rainbow throwing knives?

Lance had to pause in his quick paced walk. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stay calm. He let out a controlled breath and then slowly continued in the direction of his apartment.

“Never Hunk, I _never_ ordered twenty rainbow throwing knives. Also, because apparently I have to ask, did you open a package that you were not expecting?”

  
There was a short pause, and then Hunk’s voice came through the phone’s speaker sounding just about as guilty as could be, “Noooo.”

Lance let out a groan, re-adjusting his heavy backpack so he could properly position his phone near his ear so he could hear better, and so he could yell at Hunk clearly.

“We talked about this Hunk! You ruined your birthday present last time!”

  
“I know- I’m sorry, it’s just, I feel like it saves time if I open the packages when they arrive,” Hunk’s voice definitely sounded guilty now, but much more of an anxious guilt, and Lance immediately felt bad for snapping.

“Okay- you know what?- doesn’t matter, the more important thing here is figuring out why we now own twenty throwing knives,” Lance muttered, running a hand through his hair, and going through all the possibilities of them accidentally ordering _throwing knives_. Neither of them had gotten incredibly drunk for awhile, and they had a rule for at least one of them to be sober enough to make sure nothing went completely wrong. So drunken shopping spree was off the list. He’d _just_ changed their Amazon passwords like a week ago, so there was no way Pidge had already hacked into their account- at least he hoped she hadn’t.

Lance’s harried thoughts were interrupted by Hunk on the other line, his voice sounding sheepish and altogether too much like something was going to go wrong for Lance.

  
“You know what- um, heh, this package isn’t for apartment 255-”

  
“Hunk, oh god, please tell me you didn’t open up our neighbors package,” Lance’s heart was going too fast now, panic jumping up into his throat and constricting his breathing. This was the last thing he needed to deal with today.

  
“I didn’t open our neighbors package?” Hunk’s attempt at humor, while valiant, was not enough for Lance at the moment. His panic bubbled out in his words, and he was sure Hunk could tell over the phone.

  
“We’re going to jail- or the psycho who ordered twenty throwing knives is going to kill us. I’m too young to die Hunk, how could you do this to me?”

  
“Listen I’ll just tape up the package, and when you get back you can say there was mistake in the mail- neighbor guy never has to know!” Hunk tried, his voice rising in pitch along with Lance’s.

“Why do _I_ have to return it?!” Lance balked, freezing in his stride, his phone gripped tight in his hand.

  
“Because you’re the charmer, and I’m around for peace offering brownies if your charm doesn’t work,” Hunk offered, and while Lance knew he was just looking for an out to confrontation, it was a completely, and stupidly valid point.

“I hate that you’re right,” he muttered, kicking at pebble near his shoe grumpily. Hunk sighed, and Lance could just see his shoulders sagging in relief at not having to deal with crazy knife wielding neighbors.

  
“And I love you too, um also, your mom has emailed you like five times about spending thanksgiving in Florida, why haven’t you responded?”

  
“Are you checking my emails?!”

  
“You were still logged in on the communal apartment computer, that’s just too easy.”

 

* * *

 

Lance had never actually _seen_ his next door neighbor, and not even for lack of trying. A couple of months ago, a pile of boxes had appeared on apartment 256’s doorstep, and obviously someone had to have moved them inside- but, who had done it, Lance and Hunk were never sure. Hunk had tried to deliver a batch of “welcome to the hallway” chocolate chip cookies, but no one ever answered the door. The only mention of the guy’s existence was a rumor, started by Mrs. Morrison, the senior tenant across the hall from Hunk and Lance apartment. She’s said she saw a young man climbing out of 256’s window late one night. He was the Garrison Apartments real life cryptid.

So Lance had no idea what he was expecting when the door opened to his tentative knocking, but it definitely wasn’t an incredibly attractive, shirtless guy. They guy in question had dark longish hair (a dated look if Lance really thought about it), dark, _almost_ violet eyes, and was wearing nothing but gym shorts and fingerless gloves. Lance was also just able to make out the apartment beyond the guy, which was sparsely furnished, with a punching bag hanging smack dab in the middle of the living room. Who _was_ this gorgeous stranger?

A cough startled Lance out of his musings, and he realized he’d been gawking open mouthed for a little too long. Apartment 256 was staring holes into him, and it took a lot of will power to remember why he’d come in the first place.  He shoved the package of knives towards the guy, probably a little too rough, but 256 didn’t seem phased.

“So... there was a mix-up with the mail, I’ve just come to return this package,” Lance’s voice was most definitely quivering, but maybe it was only evident to him? 256 looked down at the cardboard box, and took it from Lance’s hands. 

  
“Uh thanks,” and sweet Jesus, his voice was amazing. Did any real person sound like that? Was Apartment 256’s tenant actually just an elaborate fever dream of Lance’s?

  
“Is there- anything else you want?” the guy was staring at him impatiently now, a small crease between his eyebrows had formed, and Lance had frozen again. Where was his charm? His smooth talking? What had _happened_ to him? This was _all_ Hunk’s fault.

  
“No-nope, I’ll just, be on my way,” he chuckled half heartedly and tried smiling at the guy, but he was just met with another irritated glance.

  
“Okay, bye,” and Lance promptly had the door shut in his face. He deflated immediately, and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

At least- despite that being the most embarrassing moment of his life- Lance could now forget about scary, neighbor guy.

 

* * *

  
  
“It happened again,” This line of dialogue came apropos to nothing as Lance picked up the phone, but despite any normal person needing clarification, Lance had a pretty good idea of what Hunk was talking about. It could not have come at a worse time though, as Lance was out to coffee with Allura, and he _really_ needed to get back in her good graces. She was the best physics tutor on campus, and Lance was _not_ going to lose her over Hunk’s problems with zero privacy.

  
“No, no it didn’t Hunk. Please tell me it didn’t happen again, because if it’s what I’m thinking it is, I will murder you,” Lance whispered harshly into the phone, and then, to keep things casual, waved at Allura from outside the café. She smiled and waved back, and thankfully seemed blissfully unaware of the turmoil his roommate was causing. _Again_.

  
“It was a cool box this time! Like not a regular beige cardboard box, but like a multi colored cool box!” Hunk tried to defend, but Lance just tried his best not to pull his hair out.

  
“I hate you- I hate you so much right now,” he said with little to no venom, and much more resignation to his fate. The other line was quite for a moment and then Hunk spoke again.

  
“If it makes you feel any better, this time it wasn’t throwing knives.”

  
“What was it?” Lance perked up, because at least despite this mess, he could learn a little about his neighbor. It wasn’t technically a violation of privacy, since Lance hadn’t been the one to open the mail.

  
“Heh- um, well,” Hunk paused, and there was a lot of throat clearing, and then something unintelligible was mumbled.

  
“I couldn’t hear a word of that- what is it?” Lance asked, shifting his footing a bit in agitation. Allura, who had just been delivered her coffee, was starting to look impatient, but Lance kind of, _really_ needed to know what was in that box.

  
“Vintage playgirls- like really pristine vintage playgirls,” Hunk finally blurted.

  
“Oh my god- our neighbor likes semi-vintage porn, also apparently multi colored throwing knives- And we’re horrible people for knowing these things.” Lance let go of the tuft of hair he’d been kneading, and rubbed a hand down his face.

  
“So- you’ll be returning the box right?” Hunk asked slowly, and Lance tried not to scream.

 

* * *

 

Lance was quicker this time, returning the mail, and almost a little bit excited to see neighbor guy again. Maybe this time his brain would work a little better. He could only hope.

The door opened abruptly, just like it had before, but this time the guy was fully dressed, in a loose black shirt, and a pair of dark wash jeans. The hotness factor unfortunately was not lowered at all. Of course hot, neighbor guy barely glanced at Lance when he noticed the box clutched in his hands, which Lance had to grudgingly hand over when he noticed he was being ignored in favor of it.

  
“It uh- looks like it happened again, you’d think they’d get it right by now,” he laughed slightly, hoping this time he’d a get at least a friendly smile out of the guy. No such luck.

  
“Uh huh,” The guy nodded, not really paying attention to the conversation at all anymore, and placed his hand on the door to shut it. But Lance had to at least try to get a name out of him.

  
“I’m Lance by the way, I don’t think I introduced myself last time.”

  
“Hmhm,” still nothing- did he need to be anymore obvious to the guy?

  
“And you are-?” it was his last ditch effort, the guy had to give his name now.

  
“Trying to close my door,” and then he did, and Lance was left standing alone in the hallway for a second time.

 

* * *

 

“I swear it wasn’t my fault this time,” Hunk raised his hands in defense when Lance walked into the apartment to see Hunk taping up a package.

  
“How- how was opening our neighbors mail not your fault this time?” Lance asked, pinching the bridge of nose.

  
“Because it was Pidge who did it, and this time we were actually expecting a package.”

  
“He’s- he’s going to find out- our super hot, super dangerous neighbor is going to find out, and he’s going to strangle me with his beautiful, graceful hands,” Lance complained dramatically as he let himself fall onto their apartment’s lumpy couch.

“Do you want to know what it was?” Hunk asked lightly, peering down at him from his standing position near the couch.

  
“You fucking know I do Hunk.”

  
“A red, cropped, pleather jacket.” Lance shot up at Hunk’s words, and Hunk yelped slightly at his quick movement.

  
“Holy shit- that’s so-" 

  
“Cool and mysterious?” Hunk tried, but Lance was definitely not thinking those things.

  
“So absolutely fucking ridiculous and totally impractical. I take it back, our neighbor isn’t a hot ninja with weird taste in porn- he’s a thrill seeking, wacko with weird taste in porn,”

“You still have to return the box though,” Hunk sighed, moving back to re-taping the box.

  
“Tell Pidge she’s banned from our apartment for the next decade.”

* * *

 

Bad fashion sense aside, Lance wasn’t completely upset about having an excuse to see cute neighbor guy again, because god dammit, he would win him over some how. He opened the door this time in the same loose black shirt, this time with an added red checkered flannel, and light wash jeans. This slight change in appearance made him seem a lot more soft, and Lance was honestly loving it. It amazed him this was the guy who had ordered a _cropped_ pleather jacket.

“I think we should seriously consider talking to our mail guy,” Lance needed to stop making jokes, the jokes had not worked the last two times, so he needed to stop. He handed over the package, and noticed, neighbor was _actually_ looking at him this time.

“Uh, it’s actually a mail woman- her names Janice- she’s nice” He shrugged slightly, holding the box under his arm. He wasn’t shutting the door in Lance’s face this time. He was actually talking to Lance. That had been a more than monosyllabic sentence that he’d just said.

“I think that’s the most you’ve ever spoke to me,” Lance blurted out in his shock, and neighbor guy seemed kind of put off. _Shit_.

“Oh- sorry,” He said awkwardly, shifting slightly, angled more towards going back into his apartment. Lance needed to fix this, like right this minute. He was so close to maybe getting a name.

“No it’s- it’s fine! I’m sure you’ve just been busy!” Lance waved his hands, as if brushing away cute neighbor’s past grievances, and he seemed to relax a little bit. Score one for Lance.

“Uh yeah- My brother’s moving into to town and I’ve been trying to help him find an apartment. It’s harder than I thought it was going to be- I’m Keith by the way. I realize I was kind of rude last time,” He stuck out his free hand, and Lance had trouble not pumping his fist in victory, and calmly shook _Keith’s_ hand.

“Well it’s nice to meet you officially Keith,” Lance was grinning now, but he couldn't help it. He felt like he’d just won the lottery, when in actuality it was just his neighbors first name.

“You too- _Lance_.”

 

* * *

 

It was finally Saturday again, and Lance was making sure he spent every second of it on his very lumpy couch. That’s what Saturday’s were for, as well as eating only incredibly sugary cereal, and watching wholesome cartoons. Of course someone didn’t get the memo that Saturdays are for couch lounging, cereal eating and cartoon watching, because at around noon there was a knock at the door. Hunk could not answer the door, because Hunk was not there. Hunk was at a couples cooking class with Shay, so _Lance_ had to leave the couch.

He tightened his baby blue robe, stuffed his feet into blue lion slippers, and shuffled his way to the door, muttering about the serenity of Saturday having been ruined. The cursing stopped of course when he opened the door to reveal Keith, dressed for a run, in a loose grey tank, running shorts and tennis shoes. He was also holding a package in his arms.

“I think- I got your mail this time,” he kind of half smiled as he handed off the package, but it seemed- stressed.

“Cool, thanks,” Lance took the proffered box, and gave his looser smile back. Keith nodded slightly, but didn’t move, just kind of shifted anxiously, moving his weight from one foot to the other.

“Is there-” Lance tried just as Keith blurted out _“I opened it on accident!”_

“That’s- fine-” Lance barely got through saying when Keith cut him off with a waving motion.

“No it isn’t, it’s a total invasion of your privacy, but I wasn’t paying attention and I kind of just- opened it. So I’m sorry. You’re like the first person I’ve even kind of interacted with in the apartment complex, and you’re cool and- pretty cute, so I didn’t want to be caught in a lie, and say that I _didn’t_ open your mail. So I decided to just tell the truth, and please don’t hate me,” Keith said in a rush, his cheeks and neck flaring a bright red. Lance had to take a moment to process this, the box in his hands feeling a lot heavier all of a sudden. He decided now was better than never to come out with the truth.

“I guess- I guess I should mention now that, my roommate accidentally opened all of the packages of yours that we got, and you’re a much cooler person for telling the truth right off the bat, and also did you say I was cute?” He couldn’t help but add the last part in, probably in bad taste, because Keith’s expression had taken a very dramatic turn for the worse. It was then that Lance remembered the twenty rainbow throwing knives.

“You- you saw the vintage Playgirls,” Keith said haltingly, his face stony and altogether frightening.

“Yesss,” Lance said slowly, his skin itching with the need to run back into his apartment and hide. For _at least_ a decade. Then Keith was glaring so intensely that, the decade of hiding rose to about a century.

“Okay, first off, I should mention for propriety’s sake,  the magazines were a gag gift for my brother’s birthday, and second off, yes, I said you’re cute. Of course I’m not quite sure how I’m feeling now, since you opened my mail _several_ times. And not just that, you looked through it. I should also mention, you might have ordered your SpongeBob PJ’s a little too small,” and with that he turned and stalked off to the halls stairwell, and then slammed the door as he exited through it.

Lance would have liked to mention, they were _Pidge’s_ SpongeBob pajamas, but he realized a little too late that’s not what he should have been trying to defend.

 

* * *

 

It was Tuesday morning, and Lance still hadn’t gone to see Keith again. He’d hoped that he wouldn’t have to. That he would pass Keith in their hallway, or maybe Keith would come back to yell at him some more, but there was no such luck. Hunk had only sort of help, and had asked if brownies would ease the situation. Lance wasn’t so sure they would. Lance did of course have one other person to turn to, and they were having coffee together.

“Allura, I know you’re here to answer physics based questions but- I messed up with a guy I think I like, and I don’t know how to fix it. And I like- _really_ messed up,”

“Well, I can’t say I’m exactly an expert, but I suppose you can try,” Allura said while looking up from the notes they’d both been pouring over.

“ _How_ are you not an expert? You’ve been in a committed three year relationship!” Lance yelped, because honestly, Allura couldn’t brag to save her life. If Lance had had a girlfriend or boyfriend for as long as she had, he’d be telling everyone.

“Are you going to explain your situation or are we done working here?” She said, looking at him in amusement.

“No- no I’ll explain,” he rolled his eyes as he said this though, and Allura flicked him in the shoulder. He refrained from flicking her back for revenge (because he still needed her help) and told her of Hunk’s accidental mail opening, and the next time, and the next time, and how Keith was someone who Lance just wanted to get to know more about, because he was _cool_. They’d had a _spark_ , Lance was sure of it.

After he’d finished, Allura sat quietly for a moment, sipping at her iced coffee, and thinking. Finally she spoke.

“It looks like he really appreciates honesty Lance, I think he’s mostly just upset you lied to him.”

“Yeah, I get that, but- How do I show him I can be trustworthy,” Lance placed his head in his hands forlornly, but Allura just shook her head at him with a smile.

“That’s pretty simple Lance- spill your guts- open yourself up to him. He seems to like brashness,” Allura patted his shoulder comfortingly, then rose and started collecting her bags. Lance stood with her, grabbing both of their coffee cups.

“Okay- okay, _thank you,_ Allura,” Lance spoke finally as they reached the door of the coffee shop, and then handed Allura her cup.

“No problem, Lance. Now- I have to go, Romelle’s expecting me for our lunch date. I’ll see you in class Wednesday morning.”

 

* * *

 

Lance wasn’t sure how you were supposed to feel in the situation with _kind of_ stolen mail, lying about the kind of stolen mail, and then asking the actual receiver of the mail on a date after you’d been found out for lying. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t feel _quite_ this sick.

He knocked on the door slowly this time, any faster movement just made him feel off center, and then waited. He didn’t have to wait long because the door swung open only a moment or so later. Before Lance could even register what Keith looked like this time (most undoubtedly very good), he’d started speaking.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Lance didn’t yell this exactly, but it was most definitely louder then he’d intended it to come out. _Didn’t matter,_ Lance thought, _he’d come here with a mission._

“What-” Keith tried, but Lance cut him off quickly again.

“I should have told you right off, and it was stupid of me to keep it a secret. I wanted to make a good first impression, and opening my cute neighbors mail seemed like a really dumb way to do that, so please- please take my apology coffee offering, and since I was told to be completely truthful with you, I was wondering if next time you wanted to go out _with_ me to get the coffee?” Lance finished out of breath, holding out the cup of coffee he’d bought right after his conversation with Allura. Keith stared at it blankly for a moment, then up at Lance, and then back at the coffee. Lance was just about to just shove the cup in his hands when finally he took it, and a sheepish smile began to form on his face.

“I wasn’t- I wasn’t really upset with you- Just shocked Lance- I think it was just as much a mistake as when I opened your mail- so uh- yeah, I’ll go get coffee with you.”

“Really?” Lance had just been about to give him even more reasons why he’d messed up, and why he could maybe give him a chance despite the things he’d messed up. But that had definitely been a yes. A _yes_.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, that same smile playing on his lips as he watched Lance flounder.

“Um- cool- cool, awesome, very-”

“Cool?” Keith smirked at him from behind his coffee, and Lance felt himself grinning uncontrollably.

“Uh, yeah- _very_ cool.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I shouldn't have started this without posting chp. 7 of Power Corrupts first, but I'm weak, and I'm sorry. Please bear with my chaotic writing moods. Do not worry though, I am never going to drop that story, I care about it too much. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this fluff I apparently had to write!  
> Like and Comment what you thought!!


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